The woman whom the count had seen leave the ship with so much regret entered this house; she had scarcely closed the door after her when Monte Cristo appeared at the corner of a street, so that he found and lost her again almost at the same instant.The worn out steps were old acquaintances of his; he knew better than any one else how to open that weather-beaten door with the large headed nail which served to raise the latch within.He entered without knocking, or giving any other intimation of his presence, as if he had been a friend or the master of the place.At the end of a passage paved with bricks, was a little garden, bathed in sunshine, and rich in warmth and light.In this garden Mercedes had found, at the place indicated by the count, the sum of money which he, through a sense of delicacy, had described as having been placed there twenty-four years previously.The trees of the garden were easily seen from the steps of the street-door.Monte Cristo, on stepping into the house, heard a sigh that was almost a deep sob; he looked in the direction whence it came, and there under an arbor of Virginia jessamine,* with its thick foliage and beautiful long purple flowers, he saw Mercedes seated, with her head bowed, and weeping bitterly.She had raised her veil, and with her face hidden by her hands was giving free scope to the sighs and tears which had been so long restrained by the presence of her son.Monte Cristo advanced a few steps, which were heard on the gravel.Mercedes raised her head, and uttered a cry of terror on beholding a man before her.
* The Carolina -- not Virginia -- jessamine, gelsemium sempervirens (properly speaking not a jessamine at all) has yellow blossoms.The reference is no doubt to the Wistaria frutescens.-- Ed.
"Madame," said the count, "it is no longer in my power to restore you to happiness, but I offer you consolation; will you deign to accept it as coming from a friend?""I am, indeed, most wretched," replied Mercedes."Alone in the world, I had but my son, and he has left me!""He possesses a noble heart, madame," replied the count, "and he has acted rightly.He feels that every man owes a tribute to his country; some contribute their talents, others their industry; these devote their blood, those their nightly labors, to the same cause.Had he remained with you, his life must have become a hateful burden, nor would he have participated in your griefs.He will increase in strength and honor by struggling with adversity, which he will convert into prosperity.Leave him to build up the future for you, and I venture to say you will confide it to safe hands.""Oh," replied the wretched woman, mournfully shaking her head, "the prosperity of which you speak, and which, from the bottom of my heart, I pray God in his mercy to grant him, I can never enjoy.The bitter cup of adversity has been drained by me to the very dregs, and I feel that the grave is not far distant.You have acted kindly, count, in bringing me back to the place where I have enjoyed so much bliss.I ought to meet death on the same spot where happiness was once all my own.""Alas," said Monte Cristo, "your words sear and embitter my heart, the more so as you have every reason to hate me.Ihave been the cause of all your misfortunes; but why do you pity, instead of blaming me? You render me still more unhappy" --"Hate you, blame you -- you, Edmond! Hate, reproach, the man that has spared my son's life! For was it not your fatal and sanguinary intention to destroy that son of whom M.de Morcerf was so proud? Oh, look at me closely, and discover if you can even the semblance of a reproach in me." The count looked up and fixed his eyes on Mercedes, who arose partly from her seat and extended both her hands towards him."Oh, look at me," continued she, with a feeling of profound melancholy, "my eyes no longer dazzle by their brilliancy, for the time has long fled since I used to smile on Edmond Dantes, who anxiously looked out for me from the window of yonder garret, then inhabited by his old father.
Years of grief have created an abyss between those days and the present.I neither reproach you nor hate you, my friend.
Oh, no, Edmond, it is myself that I blame, myself that Ihate! Oh, miserable creature that I am!" cried she, clasping her hands, and raising her eyes to heaven."I once possessed piety, innocence, and love, the three ingredients of the happiness of angels, and now what am I?" Monte Cristo approached her, and silently took her hand."No," said she, withdrawing it gently -- "no, my friend, touch me not.You have spared me, yet of all those who have fallen under your vengeance I was the most guilty.They were influenced by hatred, by avarice, and by self-love; but I was base, and for want of courage acted against my judgment.Nay, do not press my hand, Edmond; you are thinking, I am sure, of some kind speech to console me, but do not utter it to me, reserve it for others more worthy of your kindness.See"(and she exposed her face completely to view) -- "see, misfortune has silvered my hair, my eyes have shed so many tears that they are encircled by a rim of purple, and my brow is wrinkled.You, Edmond, on the contrary, -- you are still young, handsome, dignified; it is because you have had faith; because you have had strength, because you have had trust in God, and God has sustained you.But as for me, Ihave been a coward; I have denied God and he has abandoned me."Mercedes burst into tears; her woman's heart was breaking under its load of memories.Monte Cristo took her hand and imprinted a kiss on it; but she herself felt that it was a kiss of no greater warmth than he would have bestowed on the hand of some marble statue of a saint."It often happens,"continued she, "that a first fault destroys the prospects of a whole life.I believed you dead; why did I survive you?
